


First Snow

by greenapricot



Category: Grantchester (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, seasonal fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27905098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenapricot/pseuds/greenapricot
Summary: Sidney squints into the sun when he steps out the door minutes later, shovel in hand. It is dazzlingly beautiful, every snowflake catching the light and throwing back tiny, twinkling sparks of brilliance all around him. Days like this, he feels like a kid again, like his first wide-eyed weeks at seminary, full to bursting with the beauty of God’s creation and eager to share it with everyone he encounters.
Relationships: Sidney Chambers & Geordie Keating
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	First Snow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vita_S_West](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vita_S_West/gifts).



> Written for the Holiday/Winter tumblr prompt: “Aren’t we a little old for this?” + Grantchester from Vita_S_West.

The first proper snow of the year falls overnight, beginning as low grey clouds that bring a bleak cold which persists as the day goes on, even with the fire Mrs M makes in the sitting room grate. In deference to the coming storm, she heads home earlier than usual, leaving a mince pie warming in the oven; her idea of letting Sidney and Leonard fend for themselves. 

The next day dawns bright and white and quiet, the brunt of the storm well past by the time Sidney wakes. Out the window, the village has been transformed into a sparkling fairyland, bright blue sky and snow piled in great puffs on every twig and branch and stone and roof; a scene right out of a Swinnertons Christmas window display.

Leonard dons wellies and wraps himself in a scarf and hat made by an eager but not particularly skilled parishioner; far more bundled up than necessary for the short walk to the church to check everything is all right. Sidney doesn’t let on that he knows where Leonard’s really going, just tells him not to worry about the shovelling, that he’ll take care of it before Mrs M arrives. Leonard flashes him a shy and grateful smile as he trudges off into the shiny, white world.

Sidney squints into the sun when he steps out the door minutes later, shovel in hand. It is dazzlingly beautiful, every snowflake catching the light and throwing back tiny, twinkling sparks of brilliance all around him. Days like this, he feels like a kid again, like his first wide-eyed weeks at seminary, full to bursting with the beauty of God’s creation and eager to share it with everyone he encounters.

There is the whir of an engine, the scrunching squeak of tyres over compacted snow, and Geordie’s car comes to a sliding stop at the snow-covered kerb. Geordie gets out, grumbling as he steps in a rather deep drift, then tries to stamp snow off his shoes and trousers only to make it worse. He doesn’t look up to see Sidney watching him, his eyes on the slippery pavement as he makes his way toward the unshovelled path. 

Sidney can’t help but smile at Geordie grumbling as if he’s unaware of the beauty surrounding him. It warms his heart, much as the winter sun warms his face. He pushes the shovel into the snow, clearing off the top step, then the next, smiling as he works. Geordie looks up at the sound of the shovel shushing through the snow.

“What’s got you so cheerful?” he says, still grumbling. 

Sidney’s smile widens. He spreads his arms wide to encompass the whole of Granchester, the whole of the world at this near-perfect moment in time. “Look at it, Geordie. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Georgie harrumphs and stuffs his hands in his coat pockets, staying in the spot at the edge of the pavement where he’s stamped the snow down. Sidney shovels along the path toward him, stopping halfway down. He wedges the shovel in the snow so it stays upright and bends down to scoop snow up in his palms, moulding it together. It stays where he presses it, a perfectly round ball.

“Nice and sticky,” Sidney says, tossing the snowball in the air and catching it again. “Perfect for snowballs.” Then he tosses the snowball in Geordie’s direction, a half-hearted throw to test the staying power of his moulding. It glances off Geordie’s shoulder and breaks apart, scattering snow down Geordie’s coat sleeve.

“Aren’t we a little old for this?” Geordie asks, his tone still grumbling but the barest hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. He bends down to cup snow into his own hands.

Sidney laughs as the snowball grazes his ear and throws another one back, hitting Geordie square in the chest. 

“Why should joy be reserved for the young?” Sidney says, still laughing, backing away toward the shelter of the hedge as Geordie advances on him. 

“I’ll show you joy.” Geordie’s threatening tone is belied by the grin playing across his lips as he lobs another snowball toward Sidney. 

Sidney lets out a whoop and ducks behind the hedge. He crouches down and two more snowballs sail over the hedge in quick succession, showering him with snow. 

When Mrs M arrives, they are both covered in snow and the walk still isn’t shovelled. She purses her lips and shakes her head at them, her eyes tracing the paths of their footprints back and forth and back across the garden. 

“Aren’t you two a little old for this?” 

Sidney tries and fails to contain his laughter, snow working its way down the back of his neck as he grabs onto Geordie’s shoulder to steady himself, and then Geordie is laughing too. Mrs M tuts at them disapprovingly as she picks her way along the half-shovelled path and up the steps, somehow managing to get hardly any snow on her skirt and stockings. 

“This had better be shovelled by the time I finish the hoovering,” she says, gesturing down the path.

Sidney straightens up a bit, one arm still looped around Geordie’s shoulders, and gives her a salute. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Mrs M shakes her head again, muttering something Sidney doesn’t catch under her breath, but there is a distinctly fond look in her eyes as she shuts the door behind her. 

_____

**Author's Note:**

> I started this a couple of days ago, then yesterday and overnight we got our first proper snow of the year. So this fic is very fitting and possibly a tiny bit prophetic. Those snowy descriptions, which I wrote before there was snow on the ground here, are now completely accurate for what it looks like in my yard.


End file.
